Bloodline
by LilNilCollabs2010
Summary: When Mac goes missing after a night out with the team, the CSI's become caught up in the hunt to find him before it's too late.  Mac/Stella T  Not as cliched as it sounds I promise, just lack of summery writing ability. ;
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Bloodline  
**Authors:** Nil1875 & lilgreenbean  
**Pairing:** Mac/Stella  
**Rating:** T  
**Summery:** When Mac goes missing after a night out with the team, the CSI's become caught up in the hunt to find him before it's too late.  
**Notes:** Hi everyone! Nil here. So this is our first collab story together and hopefully not the last. We've been having a ton of fun writing it and now that we have a few chapters done, we're going to post it! I hope you will all ready and enjoy and please REVIEW! We love them!

* * *

Mac shook his head, trying to clear some of the fuzz from his mind. He blinked a few times before he realized his vision wasn't clearing because it was pitch black. Slowly he sat up, leaning against the wall behind him for support. His head was pounding and spinning, making it hard to remember how he got where he was, or what the last thing he had been doing was. He felt concrete under his palms and against his back, telling him it defiantly wasn't his apartment and that he'd never made it home last night.

Sitting up fully he reached up and touched the back of his head, wincing when his fingers came in contact with an open wound. Pain shot from the cut all the way around his head and he winced. Nothing should be allowed to hurt that much. With a sigh Mac rested his forehead on his knees and took a deep last thing he remembered was taking an evening off, at the entire teams insistence of course, and going out to the closest bar. He hadn't had that much to drink because he remembered stopping after two beers and watching Danny and Flack go at it for the next hour to see who would pass out first. He couldn't remember who had, but he did remember walking Stella outside to a taxi at about 11:00 and watching as the cab drove away.

He had in turn started walking, since his apartment was close by, leaving the rest of his team to fend for themselves He hadn't wanted to leave the lab anyway and he was pretty sure they could handle themselves. And if not, there were plenty of their colleagues there to get them home. The next and only other thing he remembered from before he woke up in this dark room was the sound of a train. It had been close by and he imagined he must have been in the trunk of a car, parked near the tracks as the train passed. He couldn't fully remember it so he must have been slipping in and out of consciousness thanks to the bump on his head and now here he was.

Mac stood up, letting himself adjust to the change and walked around the room, running his hands along the walls. The room was about ten feet by twelve with solid concrete walls and floor and a steel reinforced door. He could tell this by the fact that smashing his shoulder into and it didn't move it a centimeter. Someone was serious about keeping him where he was.

He started to consider that as he paced around the small room. Who would want to do this? He'd made his share of enemies in the past. He made one almost every time he arrested someone. Too many to count if he was honest with himself. It was a long list that he didn't like to be reminded of.

Mac quickly checked his pockets, but anything of use was gone. The only thing he had left was a receipt from coffee a few days before and a couple of Stella's hair ties that she had thrown to him when she had been at the bar and realized she didn't have any pockets. No keys, no cell phone, nothing that would help him get out or defend himself from his captor when they came back.

Sighing Mac sat back down against the wall, this time directly across from the door so he know the next time it opened. There was nothing he could do now but do the one thing he hated the most. Wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys - the Lil half of LilNil here this time. Here's chapter two of our collaboration.

Usual disclaimers: I own nothing, it all belongs to CBS. I just take them out to play sometimes.

Enjoy, and please review! Thanks.

* * *

The sound of the alarm dragged Stella from a particularly pleasant dream. She groaned, rolled over and smacked the 'off' button with more force than strictly necessary; it had been a really good dream.

Opening one eye, she squinted at the bright red display on the clock-face – damnit! She really did have to get up now. With a sigh she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, heading into the bathroom to grab a quick shower.

Unfortunately the quick shower turned into an inadvertent long soak, leaving her just enough time to dress, fill her travel mug with coffee, grab her keys, badge and gun, and head out the door to her car.

The drive to the lab was as frustrating as always – if she ever found anywhere with worse traffic than Manhattan during rush hour she'd eat her badge – but she still had time in hand as she pulled into the parking garage. Thank goodness for a lucky run of green lights, she mused as she parked up, locked the vehicle and headed for the elevators.

She stepped out of the elevator on the 36th floor with seconds to spare, and headed to her office; she threw typically cheerful greetings to her colleagues, making sure the one for Danny was unnecessarily loud; judging by the pinched expression on his face, and the grey cast to his skin, he'd lost (or won, depending on your point of view) the drinking contest with Flack the previous night.

As she settled down at her desk and booted up her computer, Stella reflected on the previous evening. She still had no idea how they'd managed to convince Mac to accompany them to Sullivan's – normally getting him to be sociable was like pulling teeth – but she was inordinately pleased he'd come. He even seemed to enjoy himself – he'd only left in the end because she had; he'd walked her out to her cab around 11. She smiled slightly as she remembered telling him he didn't have to leave just because she was; he responded that it would be far less fun once she'd gone anyway. She felt her cheeks flush, and shook her head to dispel the memories – the last thing she needed was someone coming into her office while she was blushing over her boss!

Stella tapped her fingers impatiently as her computer worked through the start-up – weren't MACs supposed to be faster than PCs? – and decided to go check in with the afore-mentioned boss and see if there were any new case assignments. Technically his shift started at the same time as hers, but she had no doubt he'd actually been in much earlier. She rolled her eyes fondly as she headed down the hall – he was such a workaholic.

Reaching his office, she raised a hand to knock on the glass door (a formality with them most of the time), and stopped short in surprise when she realised the room appeared to be empty. She pushed the door open and stepped in – her confusion increased as she realised that not only was the room currently empty but that the computer was not on, there was no coffee mug steaming away on the desk. All the file-folders looked to be exactly where they'd been the night before when she'd laughingly dragged him from the room to join the rest of the team for drinks. In all the years she'd worked with him, Stella had never known him to be late for work. Even in the days after 9/11 (when he would have been well within his rights to be late, or not show up at all) he'd been terrifyingly punctual. Yet it was now – she glanced at her watch – after 8, at least an hour after he'd normally be in, and there was no sign of him.

"Stel?" A voice behind her startled her out of her ruminations; she turned to see Sheldon Hawkes outlined in the open doorway.

"Hawkes? What's up?" She asked, her tone distracted.

"Just looking for the boss-man – he not in yet?" Hawkes' voice betrayed surprise as he too realised Mac was not there.

"No," Stella muttered softly as she rounded Mac's desk, rifling through the papers to see if there was anything there that might indicate why he was late; a note about a meeting, an urgent call-out, anything. Distantly she considered that it was probably inappropriate for her to be rifling through her superior's desk, but she dismissed it as unhelpful.

There was nothing.

She looked up at Hawkes, frustration showing on her face. "You sure you haven't seen him?" she asked.

"Nope – not since he left the bar with you last night," Hawkes replied, concern leaking into his voice.

Stella nodded grimly – she'd been afraid of that. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket and punched in Mac's number from memory. Holding it to her ear, she listened to it ring. And ring. And ring.

It seemed an overreaction on the face of it; Mac was a grown man, a decorated police officer and former Marine who was more than capable of taking care of himself. But something in Stella's gut kept gnawing at her, insisting something wasn't right. She turned back to Hawkes, still waiting.

"Grab one of the trucks," she said firmly. "We're going to Mac's apartment."

If Hawkes was surprised he wisely gave no indication – he simply nodded, and headed towards the elevators.

Stella sighed, and dialled Mac's number again, hoping he would answer this time, laugh at her worry. Nothing. She tried his cell and home phones. They just rang. As she made her way down to the car she called Sid at the morgue to see if Mac was there – nothing. She called the precinct and spoke to Flack – he hadn't seen Mac either. The gnawing in her gut increased.

Hawkes said nothing as she climbed into the truck beside him – the grim look on her face answer enough.

The drive to Mac's seemed to take twice as long as the drive into work this morning, and Stella's nerves were shot to pieces by the time they arrived. She flung the door open and jumped out before Hawkes had even stopped the car, and headed into the building. The ride up to Mac's floor was tense and absolutely silent, save for the tapping of Stella's heel against the floor. She was out of the elevator the second the doors opened, that inexplicable gnawing propelling down the hallway to the apartment.

She pulled out her keys (Hawkes wisely made no comment about her having a set) and unlocked the door, pushing it open. She moved more carefully now – there was still the possibility that Mac was right here, fine and dandy, and that he would very much not appreciate her barging into his home like a charging elephant.

The apartment was eerily silent. Stella walked carefully through the entryway into the main living space, vaguely aware of Hawkes entering behind her. She noted with some disquiet that the side table where Mac usually kept his side-arm and badge was empty. The rest of the apartment was still quiet – no sounds of anyone making coffee, showering, even sleeping pervaded the silence. A check of the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and spare room confirmed Stella's worst fears; Mac wasn't here. Worse still, it looked like he might not have been here at all – the bed hadn't been slept in. Nothing appeared to have been moved or disturbed in hours.

The gnawing sensation ratcheted up another notch.

Stella turned to face Hawkes, whose face now showed the same grim concern as her own. She licked her suddenly dry lips, and in one last attempt to prove that she was paranoid and needed to stop reading James Patterson novels before bed, she pulled out her cell phone and tried Mac's number again.

This time it went straight to voice-mail.

She swallowed, and looked to Hawkes again.

"Call the team," she said, her voice grim. "Mac's missing."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi all, Nil here again! This is chapter 3! (Obviously) Enjoy! Basic disclaimers apply. Please Review, we love them!

* * *

"Come on, Stella. He had to leave something behind," Mac muttered as he paced. All his faith was in his lead detective to follow the trail of his kidnapper and find him.

There was nothing Mac could do, stuck in this little concrete room with only a small mattress and a bucket that he hadn't noticed before. There were no windows; he had no phone, nothing at all of any use. Even his watch was gone, making it impossible to tell how much time had passed, though he was almost sure it had already been at least 18 hours if not longer.

Sometime while he had been sleeping (the lump on his head was making it hard to stay awake for very long and he probably had a concussion) a panel in the steel door had opened and a few items were dumped onto the floor - a torch, a sandwich, two bottles of water, a pad of paper and a pencil and a small first aid kit. Across the top of the pad was scrawled ominously, 'To write your Will' and Mac had shivered involuntarily when he read the words.

He was still racking his mind as he cleaned the cut on his head the best he could with the supplies from the first aid kit. His list of potential suspects was almost endless. He had already counted more than a hundred people who were capable and who wanted him dead. It wasn't a comforting set of thoughts at all.

Not for the first time was Mac wishing he'd taken that profiling class that the department offered a couple months back. Stella had wanted him to but he'd refused, saying he was too busy to take any time. She had taken it though and the thought made him smile. She was the smartest woman he knew. If anyone could find him, she could. He only wished he could use the knowledge to identify his kidnapper, so that he might know how to talk his way to safety, at least for a while.

It was hard for Mac to put his trust so fully in other people most of the time. He liked to be the one out there taking action and solving the mystery, doing at least something to help. It came from his years in the Marines and the NYPD. If he couldn't do anything he felt so helpless. It would feel like 9/11 all over again if it weren't for the fact that for the moment his life was the only one in jeopardy.

Even so he trusted his team. He trusted Stella and the rest of them to do what they did best. His life was in their hands and he accepted the fact, though it didn't stop the frustration.

He resisted the strong urge to kick the wall in anger, knowing a broken toe or two wouldn't help anything at all. Mac picked up his jacket and checked the pockets for the fourth time. Still nothing. Then he dug his hands in the pockets of his jeans and froze. His fingers closed around something that until now he had completely forgotten about and his eyes closed as he took a deep breath, remembering why it was in his pocket in the first place.

He drew his hand out and looked at the small object sitting in his palm as it glinted in the torchlight. He briefly wondered how one little thing could change his mood so drastically but it had. He had gone from anger to sadness in seconds and he realized that if he did nothing else, this was something he had to set right.

Refusing to be resigned to his fate, he took the paper and wrote a letter that he hoped soon he could burn and its intended recipient would never have to read.

"_Just in case something happens to me," _he began the letter. _"There's something I have to tell you." _

Mac bit his lip and took a breath, trying to find the strength to continue, the little gold object from his pocket clenched tightly in his hand.

"_I want to make this simple, but I'm not sure I can._

_I've never been the easiest person to know, or to work with and I readily admit that. You above anyone else know I have more demons than most, because you've always been there for me when I needed you. Whether I admitted it or not, you've always known. You've been a shoulder to lean on, a pillar of strength when I didn't have any left. Strength and stupidity."_

Mac shook his head and smiled as he thought.

"_I can't tell you how many times I've feared for your life when you went and got yourself into trouble. How many times I've wanted to keep you safe when I know it's useless; you just charge in anyway. It's one of your charms, you follow your heart. But I want you to promise me something._

_Try and stay out of trouble. Please._

_I know it probably won't do that much good, but I can try. I don't know who has me, but I hope you find me before its too late, because I never want you to have to read this letter. I want to tell you this myself, to your face._

_I love you, Stella._

_I always have and I always will and when I get out of this, I'm going to ask you to marry me. I hope to God you'll say yes. You would make me the happiest person on this earth._

_If I don't see you again…I love you._

_-Mac_

Mac blinked his eyes a few times, beating back tears that were threatening to fall. His anger came flooding back within seconds and he was up and pounding on the door.

"Let me out!" he screamed in a completely uncharacteristic move.

Moments later the slot in the door slid open again and a voice floated through to him.

"Why should I do that? You killed my mother. You have to pay for what you've done," the voice told him.

Mac's heart sank in his chest. Of all the people it could have been, he knew someone up there hated him for something.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I'm making you suffer. First, your partner is going to come find you, I've made sure of that. Then I'm going to kill her while you watch. And then, I'm going to kill you. You should be happy. My killing you is more than you deserve. You deserve an eternity in hell."

The panel slid shut with a bang and Mac sunk down against the wall, his head in his hands.

"Why damnit….why?"


	4. Chapter 4

Hello my dears! Its Lil again.

First of all, my sincerest apologies for the delay in updating this - Nil has been out of town, and I've been on restricted web access for the last week (stupid download limits!).

Anyway, here is the next installment of Bloodline for your enjoyment. Usual disclaimers, and please review!

* * *

By the time the rest of the team arrived at Mac's apartment, kits in hand and questioning looks on their faces, Stella was all but pacing the floor. She'd continued to try Mac's cell phone, without success, and that gnawing sensation in her gut had managed to claw its way up into her chest, settling over her heart like some great, malevolent beast. Outwardly, however, she betrayed little of her inner turmoil to her team.

Once they were all assembled, they automatically turned to Stella for guidance. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm.

"Okay guys," she said evenly, "this is the situation: Mac appears to be missing. I've spoken to the lab, to dispatch, to Sinclair – no-one has seen or heard from him today. He doesn't appear to have been home since yesterday, and there was no sign of him in the office. I've been trying his cell phone all morning; to begin with it just kept ringing. Now it's going straight to voicemail." She stopped, allowing the others to absorb her words.

A stunned silence descended over the room; around her was a sea of shocked faces. Flack recovered first.

"Has anyone called it in?" he asked after a moment.

"Not officially," Stella replied. "When I spoke to Sinclair he warned me that if Mac were formally reported missing he would have to pull us off the case; conflict of interest and all."

"Ahhhh. That's BS!" Danny snapped impatiently. "This is the best team they've got, Mac's our man, and he'd keep us locked out?"

"Its proper procedure Danny," Stella responded softly, even though privately she agreed with the younger CSI entirely. Officially or not, there was no way she would ever be able to sit back and do nothing while Mac was missing.

"Okay, so what do you need us to do?" Hawkes chimed in. Stella sighed and gathered her thoughts before answering.

"Well, last time I saw him was when we left the bar last night," she said, glancing from person to person. "Did anyone else see him after that?"

They all shook their heads.

"Okay," Stella nodded thoughtfully. "In that case we need to go back to the bar and try and trace his route back home. I saw him set off on foot after he saw me into a cab; Sullivan's isn't that far from here." She paused momentarily.

"Hawkes, Danny and Flack, you guys come with me; we'll work on tracing Mac's possible routes from the bar. Lindsay, would you mind staying here and processing the apartment? I'm pretty sure nothing happened here, but just in case it did..."

"Sure Stel," Lindsay answered gently. "No problem."

"Alright, let's get to work."

Lindsay managed in a fairly short amount of time to determine for certain what they all already suspected – whatever happened to Mac did not take place in his apartment. As far as she could tell, no-one had been there for hours.

Once she'd determined this to her own satisfaction, she called Danny to find out how they were doing out on the street, and whether she needed to join them. The frustration in his voice was enough to propel her out of the apartment (she made sure to lock up behind her) and head out to join them.

Stella was losing patience. They'd been out combing the streets for what felt like hours (her rational brain reminded her that it was doubtless much less than that), trying to figure out which route Mac would have taken home from the bar the previous night. The problem was, there were 3 or 4 different paths he could have taken, and no way to determine with any certainty which one he'd actually used. So, the team was forced to split up and cover each route, systematically checking for anything untoward, anything that might give some hint as to what had happened to Mac. With every minute that passed without word, the unease grew within her.

Almost four hours went by before there were any developments; Stella's phone buzzed against her hip like an angry wasp, momentarily startling her. She snatched it up, barking "Bonasera" into the mouthpiece without an ounce of patience or politeness – fortunately for her it wasn't the chief of police checking in, but a barely-containing-his-excitement Danny saying he'd found something, and she needed to get over there "like, yesterday".

She hung up, and barely remembered to fill Hawkes in before she took off, one block down and two over, to meet up with Danny.

"What do you have?" she asked breathlessly, scarcely giving Danny (or Flack, or Lindsay) time to get a word out. Danny held something out to her; the sunlight glinted off it enticingly.

Wordlessly she let him drop it into her hand. It was a watch; steel, with a larger-than-average face. Not flashy, but obviously a quality item. The clasp was broken. Stella turned it over in her palm carefully, almost holding her breath. On the back there was an inscription.

'_Happy 10__th__ Anniversary, love always, Claire.'_

She gasped, her head shooting up to meet the team's expectant eyes.

"It's his," she confirmed. "It's Mac's watch."


	5. Chapter 5

Nil here with Chapter 5 at last! Sorry for the delays, and I hope you enjoy and will review!

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Mac paced, back and forth, back and forth. He fingered the letter where it rested in his pocket, folded neatly. He had to do something, find some way to warn Stella that she was in danger. But how?

There must really be something out there against him if this was really happening. Mac shook his head, he shouldn't think like that but he couldn't help it. His captor was right. He'd done terrible things in the past and he had to own up to them, but this? This was just madness.

Sinking to the floor Mac rubbed his hand through his hair, careful to avoid the cut from the blow he took earlier. In one horrible moment he thought his heart burst with sadness as he thought of Claire. He touched his left hand hesitantly, half expecting to feel his gold band there but it wasn't. Instead there was a small silver band around his pinky finger and his thoughts ran to an entirely different direction.

He had only been with Stella a week when she gave him the ring, saying that even if they didn't work out long term, to keep it as a promise that she would always be there for him, no matter what. He'd smiled, not quite sure what he'd done to deserve her, but determined to hold onto her forever.

When Claire died he didn't know how he would move on, but Stella had been there to forcefully drag him out of the office and out of his own mind. He had spent all his time either buried in paperwork or brooding. Stella had kicked him out of his office and camped on his couch until she was satisfied that he had slept enough to be rested.

Mac grinned at his thoughts. She was so stubborn and so smart. She'd be fine. She'd get him and they would go on with their lives.

"Getting comfortable Mac? Don't bother, it won't be too long until Stella's here and then you two can die together."

"What are you doing this, Reed?" Mac asked heavily. He hadn't even heard the slit in the door open.

"Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this?" Reeds voice shook as he tried to keep from shouting. "My mother is dead because of you."

"Reed…"

"No, you listen. I hired someone to do some digging around the time she died. You two were supposed to go on vacation that week. You should have been at a cabin in Vermont! And you canceled at the last minute! She wouldn't have been in the towers if it weren't for you!"

"I was trying to catch a killer, Reed! Two days before 9/11 three car bombs went off near times square! I spent every moment of my time trying to track down and lock up the person who did it! And you know what? I never caught them. It was all a set up to distract the force so no one would see it coming when the planes hit the towers."

"You should have left it alone. Just once in your life, you should have left it alone."

The cover slammed on the hole in the door and Mac leaned his head back against the wall with a groan.

This was all something that had occurred to him years before. He'd always blamed himself for Claire's death, one way or another. But it was Stella who had made him see that it wasn't his fault. Mac smiled. It all came back to Stella, it always had.

Once more Mac reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the Gold and Ruby ring that rested there and brought it out into the light as thoughts flickered through his head.

_**-Eight Months Ago-**_

"_Hey Stella, you want to grab some food somewhere?"_

"_Sure Mac," Stella nodded, locking her computer and donning her coat quickly. She linked her arm with his as the walked out of the building happily chatting._

"_So Mac, is this what's you'd call a date?" Stella teased a couple hours later over desert at a pretty fancy restaurant._

_Mac smiled and nodded. "Yeah actually, I could."_

_Stella couldn't stop the grin that spread on her face. "That's a pretty unorthodox was of asking me on a date."_

"_Have we ever done things normally?"_

_**-Six Months Ago-**_

"_Mac!" Stella shouted over the noise of gunfire._

"_I'm fine!" he yelled back. _

_Their perp seemed to think he could fight his way through about fifty NYPD officers and was shooting and screaming like a mad man. Stella rolled her eyes at the idiocy and simply waited until the man ran out of bullets, before heading forward to tackle him to the ground. She sat on him while Flack cuffed him then dragged him away._

"_Stella, you ok?" Mac asked as he walked up to her. She was grinning from ear to ear._

"_Fine Mac, but if you ever try and do something that stupid again, I'll kill you."_

_Mac blinked. "I'm not allowed to shove you out of the way of oncoming bullets?"_

"_Nope, it's not allowed."_

_Mac watched in astonishment as she walked off happily to process the scene and couldn't wrap his mind around it. He'd asked her later when they lay in bed together trying to get a few hours sleep and she'd shrugged it off, saying her life wasn't anymore important than his. He hadn't protested in an obvious way at the time._

_**-Four Months Ago-**_

_Stella grinned as she found yet another dozen roses on her desk on Monday morning._

"_Secret admirer?" Hawkes asked as he handed her a case file._

"_Not so secret to me," she smirked. _

_A few hours later she walked into Mac's office holding one of the roses. "This is about my comment that my life isn't any more important than yours, isn't it?" she asked._

_Mac just smiled and nodded. Stella couldn't help the giddy feeling that overcame her and she spent the rest of the day smiling._

_**-One Month Ago-**_

"_I love you, Stella," Mac whispered as he admired the greek goddess lying in his arms. He didn't have the courage to say it out loud and they both knew it. Stella had already told him that she loved him and his heart had soared when he heard the words. _

_It was that night as he watched her sleep that he vowed to say it to her soon and that he truly wanted to be with her forever._

_**-End Flashback-**_

Mac sighed as he brushed some dust off the ring and slipped it back into his pocket with her letter. He only hoped he would survive this to have the chance to ask her.


End file.
